


From The Jaws Of Defeat

by CaptainDodge



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDodge/pseuds/CaptainDodge
Summary: After a close championship game, Lynn learns a valuable lesson about life, luck, and Lynn Loud herself.
Relationships: Lynn Loud Jr./Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	From The Jaws Of Defeat

**Author’s Note: Hey-ho! So, I watched the new episode “On Thin Ice”, and I must say, I was very disappointed with its ending. So, to make up for Lynn’s relative lack of character development in that episode, I decided to give her some here. Enjoy!**

**I’m Captain Dodge – thank you, and have a nice day!**

(…)

It was a blazing-hot August day. The sun, beginning to dip down towards the western horizon, continued to beat down mercilessly on the field below. Lynn Loud wiped the sweat from her brow before it could drip down into her eyes. She needed _total concentration_ for what she was about to do.

Standing opposite her at the plate was Chelsea Laws, batting for the Fern Valley Floggers, clutching her bat tight and wearing a nervous look on her face. Lynn sneered, tightening her grip around the baseball behind her back. She’d played against the Floggers before, earlier in the season, and they handed her team a crushing loss of 12-6, defying all of Lynn’s good luck rituals. Lynn’s grudge against the Floggers and desire to even the score had carried her and her team all the way here, to the championships.

And now, revenge, and sweet victory, would be hers.

…If she played her cards right. It was the bottom of the ninth; there were no outs; there was a runner on first; and the score was 10-11, with Lynn’s team, the Royal Woods Squirrels, carrying a slight lead. Everything depended on Lynn; if she could get three outs without allowing a single Flogger to get a run in, her team would bring home the bacon.

Lynn scuffed the dirt of the pitcher’s mound like a bull preparing to charge. This time… luck was on _her_ side. She was sure of it.

Watching and cheering her on from the bleachers were her parents, brother, and sisters, as usual; her adoring fans; and her boyfr – err, _boy friend._ Friend-boy. Friend who is a boy. Yeah, just that – Zach “Prez” Taylor, whom she had met after a long escapade involving Lynn’s former crush, Francisco, betrayal, and a day of speed-dating (long story). Mr. and Mrs. Loud were decked out in full Squirrels attire, much to Lynn’s embarrassment; Lana had her facepaint on, and she and Luan were holding up an encouraging sign; Leni waved her dual flags cheerfully; and Prez cheered while munching on popcorn.

Smiling, Lynn spared them a nod, then turned back to Chelsea Laws at the plate. Her mood soured as she recalled the batting order, and remembered that the Floggers’ star player, Shannon O’Bannon, was on deck. In the Squirrels’ last game against the Floggers earlier in the season, O’Bannon, in particular, had managed to hit a double against one of Lynn’s patented fastballs, gaining two RBI’s and turning the tables, contributing greatly to the Squirrels’ crushing defeat.

Lynn gritted her teeth, seething at the memory. She still remembered the smug look in O’Bannon’s eyes as she stared her down from home plate, and that stupid curled corner of her lip. When she hit that double and rounded the bases to second, Lynn had turned to glare at her, and found that same haughty look on her dumb, ugly face. Lynn wanted nothing more than to hurl another fastball right into that smug face of hers – knock the smugness right off her mug…!

With her face twisted into a frightening snarl, Lynn wound up and pitched the ball as hard as she could. Unfortunately, she had gotten so caught up in her memories that she’d ended up pitching the ball directly at Chelsea Laws. Chelsea’s eyes widened as she realized that the ball was making a beeline straight for her face. Panic set in, and Chelsea shut her eyes and cringed, bracing for impact…

A dull _thunk_ rang out, and gasps and shouts arose from the crowd on both sides. Lynn realized what she had done, and covered her mouth, mortified. Chelsea opened her eyes, blinking, then felt the top of her head. In her fear, Chelsea’s knees had buckled, and she’d lowered herself down low enough for the ball to collide with her helmet instead of her nose, knocking the helmet clean off her head.

The umpire stood up and walked over to Chelsea, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asked.

Dumbfounded, Chelsea looked around, and seeing her helmet on the ground, fully grasped what had just happened, and nodded.

The umpire nodded. “All right, then, take your base.”

As Chelsea Laws picked up her helmet, put it back on, and headed for first base, Lynn felt gazes boring into the back of her skull.

_“LYNN!”_ a voice from behind her shouted.

Turning around, Lynn saw Margo Roberts, her best friend, glaring at her from her position as shortstop. _“What the heck was that?!”_ Margo demanded.

With a sheepish grin, Lynn waved apologetically. Margo continued to give her a dirty look as the runner on first moved on to second.

_“Come on, Lynn!”_ another voice called, this one coming from the stands. Turning back around, Lynn saw that it was Prez. _“Keep your head in the game! You can still do this – you just gotta focus!”_ He reached into his popcorn bag, but felt only stray kernels. Looking down, he saw his fingers brushing the bottom of the bag.

Prez inverted the bag and shook it, watching the kernels fall out. “Aw, man…” he said. “Out of popcorn…”

Just as he said that, however, he found another bag, this one filled with fresh popcorn, being thrust in front of him. _“Here you go, Zachary!”_ Lola Loud said, a smile beaming on her face. “I got you another bag!”

“Oh, hey!” Prez took the bag gratefully, returning Lola’s smile and ruffling her hair. “Well, wasn’t that sweet of you! Uh, thanks, Lisa!”

Lola’s smile drooped. “…It’s _Lola.”_

“Right, Lola, sorry…” Prez shook his head. Lynn had so many sisters, he often lost track of who was who. He turned his gaze back to the field, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth, but his chewing slowed down as he realized that Lola was still fixated on him.

He turned to look back at her. “…Can I help you?” Prez asked.

Lola fluttered her eyelashes at him. “…Could I have some popcorn, _pleeease?”_

“Sure!” Prez pushed the bag towards her. “Here, grab a handful…”

Lola giggled. “No, silly! I want you to _feed me…”_

Prez blinked. “…Feed you?”

“Mm-hmm!” Lola opened her mouth wide. _“Aaaahn…”_

Prez squirmed in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. Not knowing what else to do, he reluctantly took some popcorn and fed it to Lola.

As she chewed the piece, she tittered. _“Hmm-hmm!_ Oh, Zachary, you truly are a _gentleman!_ Gentlemen are so rare these days…” She opened her mouth again. “I’m ready for some more…”

But Lola found the popcorn she was craving shoved into her hands as Prez’s attention wandered back to the game. “Oh,” Prez said, “yeah, uh, here. Hold that thought, will you? Shannon O’Bannon is up to bat!”

“Who?”

“The Floggers’ star player. Lynn’s been nursing a grudge against her after Shannon’s team creamed hers earlier in the season – can’t wait to see how _this_ shakes out!”

Pouting, Lola passed the bag on to Lana, who was sitting on her other side, and folded her arms with a _“harrumph!”_ _Stupid Lynn,_ Lola thought. _What does Zachary see in her? He’s kind, courteous, honorable; and she’s mean, gross, none too bright, and not NEARLY as pretty as I am…_ She sighed. _I finally find the perfect gentleman, and he only has eyes for HER? Life is truly unfair, sometimes…_

Meanwhile, back on the playing field, the game had resumed after the Floggers’ coach took some time to check up on Chelsea Laws and make sure that she was alright. Lynn scuffed the dirt of the pitcher’s mound and lightly slapped her face, psyching herself up. “Come on, Lynn,” she told herself, “get it together. Prez is right – you’ve gotta keep your head in the game. The last thing you need right now is losing your cool with _her_ at the plate…”

She looked up to see Shannon O’Bannon wave at her parents and fans, then step into the batter’s box. She tapped her bat against the plate, squared her feet, and spit out a sunflower seed. Then, as she raised her bat, her eyes met Lynn’s. Lynn couldn’t tell for sure if the animosity between her and Shannon was mutual, but damn if that same smug look in her eyes that she remembered from that game long past didn’t suggest that it was.

Gritting her teeth, Lynn bent forwards, holding the ball behind her back. _Keep it cool, Lynn,_ she reminded herself. _Don’t bean her this time – no matter how much you want to…_

She straightened up, taking a deep breath. Shannon O’Bannon remained as cool as a cucumber. Gripping the ball tightly, she wound up, and pitched.

A solid _clang_ rang as aluminum collided with leather, and the ball went flying. Lynn wheeled and followed its path, outraged… until she saw the ball roll past first base, behind the foul line.

_“FOUL!”_ the umpire called.

Lynn breathed a sigh of relief. Not the _best_ start, but not bad, either. The umpire tossed her another baseball, and Lynn prepared her next pitch. She decided to pitch the ball just a little _too_ high – see if Shannon took a swing. She wound up, and the ball went sailing again. Shannon didn’t take the bait.

_“BALL!”_

Sighing, Lynn received the ball back, and started thinking hard about how to beat Shannon. The catcher signed to her that she change things up with a curveball. After some consideration, Lynn nodded. Reeling back, she twisted her wrist and rotated her fingers just at the moment of release. The curve was perfect; it wound through the air and curled back to the catcher’s glove – just outside of Shannon’s swing.

_“STRIKE!”_

Shannon’s cocky smirk dissipated, replaced with a determined grimace. Tapping her bat roughly against the plate, she assumed batting position again, gripping the bat tightly, and looked Lynn dead in the eyes. Lynn didn’t flinch, instead looking right back at her with a gleam in her eyes.

The air was so charged with tension, even those sitting in the stands could feel it. The audiences on both sides leaned forwards in their seats, eyes riveted on the game. For a moment, the field was breathlessly quiet. Then, scrunching her eyebrows, Lana stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew a high-pitched whistle.

_“Come on, Lynn!”_ she shouted. _“You can do it! Show that girl who’s boss!”_

Everyone on the Squirrels’ side of the audience turned to Lana as she continued to shout encouragements. Narrowing his eyes, Lincoln nodded. “…Lana’s right, you guys,” he told the rest of his family. “We’ve gotta show Lynn our support! Come on!” He turned back to the field, cupping his hands and shouting. _“Go, Lynn, go!”_

_“You’ve got this, Lynn!”_ Lori shouted.

_“Crush it, dude!”_ Luna shouted.

_“Let’s go, Lynn, let’s go!”_ Prez chanted.

Soon, the whole audience was joining in, clapping their hands, cheering Lynn’s name, and trying to get inside Shannon O’Bannon’s head. Not to be outdone, the Floggers in their dugout and their fans in the stands answered in turn, jeering at the Squirrels and calling for Shannon to knock it out of the park.

Lynn looked at the crowd, then back to home plate. Shannon’s cocky smirk had returned. Closing her eyes, Lynn listened to the support of her family and fans, drinking it in like energy. Drawing in a deep breath, then releasing it slowly, she opened her eyes. She straightened up, fingered the laces of the ball, drew back… and pitched a sinker.

What happened next almost happened too fast for Lynn to process. Somehow, Shannon O’Bannon had anticipated such a pitch, and crouched down as she swung low. The swing connected right on the tip, and with a mighty _klang,_ she hit a screaming line driver right at and slightly above Lynn. Seeing the ball coming straight at her took Lynn by surprise, and on practically instinct alone, she leaned back, reached her glove up above her head, and boosted herself up onto her tiptoes. Leather slammed into leather, and the impact reverberating down her arm combined with the astonished cries of the crowd told Lynn that she had, incredibly, caught the ball. She stumbled backwards, spinning 90 degrees to the right – just enough to see the runner on second making a break for third. Without thinking, she grabbed the ball that she hadn’t even seen herself catch, but still knew was there, and threw it to third. The third baseman, just as stunned by Lynn’s play as everyone else, managed to register the pass just in time, and as the runner made a dive for the base, she stepped back to put her foot on the base as she caught the ball – not a moment too soon.

_“Yerrr OUT!”_ the third base umpire called.

Halted by Lynn’s amazing catch, Shannon O’Bannon got to see all of this play out. Upon hearing the umpire’s call, she threw her bat on the ground, stomping and shouting incoherently in a mini-tantrum before storming back to the dugout, her moment of glory thwarted. The tagged-out runner dusted herself off and glumly joined her. But as the Floggers reeled, the Squirrels rejoiced. Their half of the audience erupted into wild cheers and screams, and the Squirrels themselves celebrated right along with them – but none were more exultant than Lynn Loud. Taking off her hat and waving it at her adoring fans and family, she basked in the attention and praise, smiling deliriously. This was it – this was what she’d been waiting for. At long last, her defeat was avenged, and victory was hers.

…Well, victory _would_ be hers. She received the ball back from the third baseman, and juggled it from her pitching hand to her glove and back. There was only one out left to go – the game wasn’t over left.

But as soon as Lynn saw who was up to bat next, she knew that it would be, soon.

With her teeth chattering, her hands shaking, and her knees wobbling, Lucy Powell stepped up to the plate. Like the Loud sister with whom she shared a name, Lucy Powell was quite shy – but hers was a timid brand of shyness, unlike Lucy Loud’s stoicism. Lucy P.’s parents had pushed her into sports, and this was her first ever season of baseball. It definitely showed – according to Prez, she had a pathetic batting average and made a poor showing out in the field, which was why she was often relegated to catcher. Lynn also knew her due to an infamous incident during the Floggers’ first game of the season – apparently, Lucy P. had been so nervous about being up to bat for the first time in, well, _ever,_ that she…

…Well, suffice it to say that she wasn’t nicknamed “Loosey Bowels” for no reason.

In between shuddering breaths, Lucy P. looked to her parents in the stands for support. They offered her nervous smiles and thumbs-up. Her teammates were not nearly so supportive – looking over at the dugout, she saw them alternately burying their hands in their faces, shaking their heads, or even pulling out their phones, deeming the game unworthy of any further attention. The only ones still showing any modicum of support were the coach, whose face was inscrutable, but gave her a curt nod; and Shannon O’Bannon, who was glaring holes through her, as if trying to intimidate her into succeeding.

Then Lucy P. turned to look at Lynn on the batter’s mound, and shrank. Lynn had a wicked gleam in her eyes and a confident grin on her face, looking like she was going to eat her alive – and Lucy believed she would, too.

This was it, Lucy P. thought – it was over. The Floggers would lose the championships, and it was going to be all her fault.

As Lynn straightened up, preparing to make her pitch, Lucy P. closed her eyes. Before she had stepped up to bat, the coach had advised her not to swing, as she was so small of frame that her strike zone was tiny as well, so it would be harder for a pitcher to pitch a strike. If she just waited it out, in all likelihood, she would get a walk, and someone more competent would get to step up to plate and salvage the game. (Of course, the coach had left out that last part, but it didn’t need to be said, either.)

Unfortunately, _“harder”_ did not mean _“impossible”_ – especially not when dealing with someone like Lynn Loud, Jr. Lynn calculated the size of Lucy P.’s strike zone in her mind and pitched right down the middle, straight through the invisible box.

_“STRIKE!”_

A chorus of groans rang out from the Floggers’ dugout, doing nothing for Lucy P.’s confidence. Still, she took a deep breath, and prepared for the next pitch, still ready to follow her coach’s advice and not swing. That strike might have just been a lucky fluke, after all.

The next pitch proved her wrong.

_“STRIKE!”_

Now the Floggers’ dugout erupted into an uproar, with the teammates who still cared about the outcome of the game standing up and screaming at Lucy P. to _swing the dang piece of wood in her hands,_ already – that is, when they weren’t shouting abuses at her, or derisively repeating the “Loosey Bowels” name again. In desperation, Lucy P. looked to her coach for support, but he avoided her gaze, embarrassed that his advice had backfired so badly. She looked to her parents next, but their half-hearted smiles couldn’t hide their resignation. Slumping her shoulders, Lucy P. turned back to Lynn, and awaited the death blow. As the ball came flying in her direction, she closed her eyes…

_“BALL!”_

She opened her eyes in surprise. Everyone else, Squirrel and Flogger alike, was similarly stunned. Lynn had already pitched two perfect strikes in a row, straight down the middle. She clearly knew what she was doing – why pitch a ball now? More likely than not, Lucy P. thought, it was just another lucky fluke; the next pitch wouldn’t be so generous to her.

Once again, however, she was proven wrong. With her eyes open this time, she saw the pitch go right past her eyeline.

_“BALL!”_

Both sides now began murmuring uneasily. Was Lynn slipping? Getting the yips, perhaps? Why now, though? Or maybe, Margo thought on shortstop… maybe she was missing on purpose, trying to stretch out the suspense?

Growling, Margo cupped her hands and shouted at Lynn. _“Come on, Lynn!”_ she said. _“Quit toying with her and just finish it, already!”_

But Lynn turned back to her and signaled for her to be quiet. _“I know what I’m doing,”_ she mouthed. After pitching two strikes in a row, she’d figured that Lucy P. would be tempted to swing the third time, so she’d pitched a ball. When that didn’t work, Lynn had decided to psyche her out more, make herself more unpredictable. All it would take was Lucy P. swinging on a ball or not swinging on a strike, and that would be that. It was always a 50/50 chance, though – and those odds are often worse than they seem. Still, Margo was right – best to end it now, get it over with. Lynn leaned forward, resolving to pitch a strike. It was a gamble, as always… but one she was more than willing to make.

First, though, she ramped up the intimidation factor. Looking straight at Lucy P., wearing a twisted grin, Lynn pointed at her, then drew a line across her own neck. Lucy P. shuddered, and Lynn chuckled – exactly as planned.

But seeing the girl who had killed her team’s chances at victory rub salt in the wound was too much for Shannon O’Bannon to bear. Gritting her teeth and clenching her hands into fists, she decided to do the only thing she could – support her team.

_“Come on, Lucy!”_ she shouted in the middle of the lull. _“Don’t give up! We believe in you, Luce! You can do it!”_ She turned to her other teammates. “Come on! _Lu-cy! Lu-cy! Lu-cy! Lu-cy…!”_

Although surprised at Shannon’s sudden support, the other Floggers began to join in, if only to ape their star player. The Floggers’ coach, embarrassed that one of his players was doing what he should have been doing from the beginning, quickly joined in as well. Inspired by their team, the Floggers’ supporters added their voices to the chant as well, the voices of Lucy P.’s parents loudest of all. The chant was slow at first, but gradually picked up tempo. All their hopes, all their dreams, rested on the shoulders on one Lucy Powell – the least they could do was show their appreciation for her struggle.

Lucy P. watched Shannon rally her team and the crowd to her support in awe. Hearing them chant her name made her feel a little better – but not much. She still knew that she was going to lose it for everyone, let them all down.

Her eyes fell to the plate, and from there to the tip of the bat in her hands. She closed her eyes, pursed her lips… and came to a decision.

Lynn, for her part, was undeterred by the wave of support from the Floggers’ side. She was still prepared to crush it – and _them._ As Lucy P. lifted up the bat and assumed batting position, Lynn straightened up as well. This was it – her moment of ultimate triumph. She could almost taste it…

Gripping the ball tightly, Lynn cocked her arm back, wound up… and pitched so hard, she thought she might break the sound barrier.

Lucy P. clenched the bat hard, her knuckles whitening. She didn’t care anymore if it was a strike or a ball, if she hit it or not.

If she was going down… then she was going to go down swinging.

And that’s what she did – shutting her eyes, she swung with strength that she never knew she had.

…

**_…KRAAACK!_ **

By sheer accident, the timing and location was perfect – Lucy P. hit the sweet spot bullseye. A collective gasp escaped from everyone – from the Floggers in the dugout, to the Squirrels in the field, to the spectators in the stands, and even the umpire. Staggered by the force of the blow, Lucy P. wobbled, then fell flat on her rear, though still within the batter’s box. She and everyone else, watched mouths agape as the ball soared through the air, towards right field. The right fielder started running, trying to stay under the ball as it completed its arc and began to fall back down to earth…

…so riveted on the ball that she never saw the chain-link fence as she slammed into it, knocking the air out of her lungs. The ball landed in the grass on the other side.

A silence fell over the entire baseball field as everyone tried to process what just happened. Such a thing shouldn’t even be _possible_ in Little League baseball, and yet…

_“H… Home…”_ Lynn said.

_“…run?”_ Lucy P. said.

Another moment passed in silence as everyone did the math. Chelsea Laws had made it to second on the previous play, so that was one RBI. Then, of course, Lucy P. got to round the bases. With the score 10 to 11…

Mr. Powell sprang to his feet, throwing his fists in the air and letting out a big _“WHOOOO!”_ His cheer precipitated a monumental wave of celebration, as the Floggers and their fans jumped up as well and started whooping and hollering, clapping and stamping and screaming. A collective sigh escaped from the Squirrels’ side of the stands as everyone slumped in their seats, the air wheezing out of their lungs, and the Squirrels themselves stood dumbfounded. And as Lucy P. finally grasped what she had just done, her gaping mouth curved into a wide smile.

She stood up, brushing a lock of golden hair out of her baby-blue eyes. She turned to the umpire, the same dumb grin plastered on her face, and saw him applauding. He then gestured for her to round the bases, and she gladly obliged, waving to her fans and teammates as she jogged around the diamond. Her teammates were waiting for her at home plate, and as she jumped onto the plate and pumped her fists up, Shannon O’Bannon grabbed her by the legs and hoisted her up into the air, hooting and hollering. The other Floggers quickly joined her, and held Lucy P. up above them, this time more earnestly chanting the name of the girl who had won them the championship. Lucy Powell – the screw-up, the pipsqueak, the Least Valuable Player – had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat; redeemed herself in the eyes of her teammates; and gone from zero to hero, in no time flat.

She leaned back into her team’s supporting hands, savoring the moment. Today… was a new day.

But one girl’s triumph is another girl’s tragedy. As the Floggers celebrated their victory behind her, Lynn knelt in the dirt of the batter’s mound, staring out into space in the direction of the homer that had sealed her team’s defeat. She was so close to victory, so close she could _taste_ it…

And the taste had turned to ashes in her mouth.

(…)

With the game over, the Floggers and their families began to pack up and leave, off to celebrate their victory with pizza. The Squirrels and their supporters, meanwhile, licked their wounds to their pride as best they could, with parents and siblings offering consolations to the team members. None of the Squirrels were ready to leave just yet, though – not without making sure that their MVP was okay. After picking her jaw up off the ground, Lynn had stormed off to the outfield and stayed there. Only Margo had dared to go out there and talk to her, but she returned empty-handed – and more than a little frightened.

The Louds and the Squirrels were just about to discuss their next plan of action when Prez joined them, having just finished conversing with the Floggers and their supporters.

“Well, look who’s back,” one of Lynn’s teammates said contemptuously. “Earn your seat at the victor’s table, did we, _traitor?”_

Prez rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he replied, “I was just congratulating the Floggers on a game well-played. There’s no shame in that, is there? ‘Sides, I was gathering intel.”

_“‘Intel’?”_ another of Lynn’s teammates said.

Prez tried to think of some way to explain, but couldn’t. “Er, _never mind.”_ He looked around. “So… where is she?”

Lori jabbed her thumb towards the outfield, where Prez saw Lynn lying in the grass.

He nodded. “Mm.” He turned to Lynn’s teammates. “You guys try talking to her yet?”

_“‘Try’_ being the key word, here,” Margo said. “There was just no getting through to her. She is _livid.”_

“I’d imagine so.” He turned back to the Louds. “What about you guys? Maybe she’ll listen to her family…?”

“Oh, no,” Lincoln said, _“nuh-uh._ We know how Lynn gets after she loses. Last time she lost something _this_ huge, she accused me of being bad luck.” He and the other Louds collectively shuddered. “We don’t like to think about that…”

Prez had no idea what they were talking about, but given their reaction, he decided it prudent not to ask. “…Ohhhhh- _kay.”_ Finally, he turned to look at Lynn out in the outfield, and sighed. “…Well, _someone_ ought to talk some sense into her…”

“You’re not wrong, Prez,” Margo said, “but I still wouldn’t advise it. I mean, the way she looked at me, _whoof…”_ She shook her head. “I didn’t even want to think about what she might do to me if I pushed her any further. And I’m her _best friend,_ for crying out loud…!”

Prez mulled over her words for a few moments. “…I see. Well…” He shrugged. “…maybe you ought to consider sending someone who’s not afraid of getting hurt, eh?”

Everyone stared wide-eyed at Prez as they realized who he was referring to. Eventually, however, Margo shook her head and gestured towards Lynn. “Be our guest…”

Lola swooned. “Oh, my dear Zachary! So _brave!_ So _selfless! Oh…!”_

Prez looked askance at Lola. “Uh… yeah. Thanks.” He nodded. “Well, wish me luck!”

“Luck, dude,” Luna said. “Trust me – _you’re gonna need it.”_

“If you say so.” He walked a few steps, then turned back to them. “Oh, hey, real quick question first – for all of you…”

As Prez asked his important question, Lynn laid in the cool grass of the outfield, too far away to hear. Her dull eyes stared at the blue sky, the sun beginning to dip towards the horizon. Her arms were spread out limply to both sides, barely registering the prickle of dozens of blades of grass. She felt full of vitriol, and yet, oddly, simultaneously empty. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the earth beneath her, become one with it; never have to worry about anyone, or anything, anymore.

As she picked up the sounds of footsteps approaching, the vitriol bubbled back to the surface, and her blank face turned to a scowl.

“Hey, Lynn,” she heard Prez say.

Lynn didn’t bother to even look at him. “…The others send you?” she asked.

Prez shrugged. “Eh… yes and no. I came on their behalf, but also of my own accord.”

Lynn grunted. “Then I’ll tell you the same thing I told Margo: _leave me alone.”_

Prez scratched the side of his head. “…Or what?”

Lynn sat up and turned to look at him, fire in her eyes. _“…What did you say?”_

“What will you do if I don’t?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she stood up, cracking her knuckles. “I dunno… How _flexible_ are you?”

Prez shook his head, sighing. “…Look, Lynn, if hurting me will _really_ make you feel better, then hey – I don’t mind taking one for the team.” He held his arms out from side to side. “Swing away, slugger…”

Lynn blinked, taken aback. She walked towards him, raising her fist, but hesitated when he didn’t retreat. Even when she closed the distance, he didn’t budge. “…Y-Y-You _really_ want me to do this?” she asked.

Prez shrugged. “Only if _you_ really want to do this.”

Lynn kept her fist raised, its shaking spreading to her entire body, but he simply stood there, wordlessly daring her to hurt him. Finally, her bluff called, she settled for a hard shove that caused him to stagger back a couple of steps, then turned around and returned to her spot on the grass.

_“There,”_ she snapped, sitting down. “Now _go away.”_

But Prez merely smirked in response, knowing now that Lynn didn’t really wanted to hurt him, or any of her loved ones, and was just relying on her reputation as a hothead for the intimidation factor. Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he took a few steps closer.

“Hey…” he said, _“…kiel vi fartas?”_

Lynn sighed. After a barb from Lisa about how her mind was too small to contain the knowledge of how to speak more than one language, she’d gone to Prez for help in learning a secondary language quickly and easily, and so he had taught her Esperanto. Now Lynn could boast that she knew a language that even Lisa didn’t know (if only because Lisa haughtily refused to acknowledge Esperanto as a “real” language), and nowadays, Lynn and Prez spoke Esperanto between themselves whenever they wanted a private conversation. “Prez, not now…”

_“Kiel vi fartas?”_ Prez repeated.

Lynn bristled. Sighing again, she turned to face him with an angry glare, and responded, _“Kiel vi pensas, ke mi fartas?”_

Prez nodded in understanding. _“Cxu vi volas paroli pri gxi?”_

Lynn turned back around and folded her arms. _“Ne.”_

Once again, Prez nodded. He walked up beside her, laid down on a patch of grass next to her, and continued the conversation (in Esperanto, but for the reading convenience of you, the reader, it will henceforth be rendered in English). “…Well then, do you mind if I lie here next to you and wait until you _do_ want to talk about it?”

Lynn folded her arms and turned onto her side, away from him. _“Hmph.”_

Chuckling, Prez put his hands behind his head, looked up at the clear blue sky, and waited.

Seconds turned to minutes; minutes turned to hours. Eventually, the sun began to dip low towards the horizon, tinting the sky orange. After a while, Prez broke the silence by sighing contentedly.

“Beautiful sunset, innit?” he said. “You never really get the chance to stop and appreciate sights like these…” He turned his head to look at Lynn. “Aw, come on, you’re not even looking…!”

Lynn sighed. “Prez…”

“If you don’t look now, you might miss it!”

Finally, Lynn had had enough. She sat up and thumped the ground with her fists. “Prez, would you just _leave me alone, already?!”_

Prez rotated his whole body onto one side to face her, propping his head up with one hand. “That’s not gonna happen, Lynn. Not until you talk to me…”

Growling in frustration, Lynn tore up some blades of grass and tossed them at him. “You are so _stubborn,_ you know that?!”

Prez smiled, unfazed by the grassy assault. “I prefer the term _‘tenacious’.”_

_“Aaargh!”_ Lynn threw up her hands. “Why can’t you just _go away –_ go away and leave me to feel like the _loser I am_ all by myself…?!”

Lynn stuffed her arms into her armpits, almost as if hugging herself, then tossed herself back onto her side, huffing and puffing. Prez took a deep breath, carefully planning his next move. He understood how Lynn felt, but he needed to express it in a meaningful way – not in a way that appeared shallow and/or condescending. She didn’t need to hear any sympathetic or compassionate words, like _“You’ll always be a winner to me, baby”,_ or _“I’ll always be there to catch you when you fall, no matter what”,_ or something sappy like that.

No, Lynn wasn’t that kind of girl. What she needed right now… was a healthy dose of _empathy._

Prez inched himself closer to Lynn, who was still breathing heavily and now shuddering – fighting to repress a particular strong emotion, he could guess. He placed a gentle hand on her arm, just to let her know that he was there, and just as expected, she batted it away. Taking another deep breath, he laid down on his back again. “…Look, Lynn,” he started, “I get it. Really, I do. I mean, if anyone knows how it feels to be a ‘loser’, it’s _me._ You feel… _helpless. Alone.”_ He sighed. “Like the whole world’s out to _get you…”_

He turned to look at her. She hadn’t said anything, but she had stopped shaking. That was good – she was digesting his words. He continued, “Lots of days were tough. Sometimes, it all felt like too much for me to take…” He cracked a grin. “…But do you wanna know how I survived?”

There was a pause. Then, Lynn looked over her shoulder. “…How?”

“Because I had someone to lean on – someone to pick me up when I was feeling down, show me that it wasn’t that bad.”

Lynn snorted. “…Your _mom?”_

“Yes,” Prez said, without a hint of embarrassment. “No matter how many fights I got into; no matter how many times I was picked on, excluded, or made fun of… at the end of the day, she’d always be there with a hot meal, a gentle smile, an open ear, and a hand to pat me on the back with.” He shrugged. “…Of course, she was still just one person, but she managed to hold me over until I met _you.”_

Lynn started to smile, touched. “Prez…”

“I understand, Lynn – I understand how it feels, to feel alone. But what you need to realize is that you’re _not_ alone. You’ve got _me_ (for what that’s worth); you’ve got Margo and all your friends and teammates; and most of all, you have your _family._ We’re all here and ready to give you our support; you just need to accept it, let us in. Okay?”

Lynn turned onto her back, looking directly at Prez. For a moment, it seemed as though he had gotten through to her. But as she thought about the things they might say to her, the things they might _think_ about her, if she went back to them now – and as she reflected on what he’d just said to her – she soured, sitting up and scowling.

“But…” Lynn shook her head. “…But _why?!_ Why should I, if you’re just going to treat me like a _loser?!”_ As Prez opened his mouth to speak, she jabbed a vindictive finger at him. _“Don’t deny it!_ You said it yourself – you know what it feels like to be a loser! That means you _do_ think I’m a loser, too! So… So why should I even _bother_ listening to your empty words and consolations, when I know how you _really_ feel – how you _really_ see me?” She pulled her knees in to her chest, hugging them. “Face it – I’m a _failure._ Without winning, _what am I?”_

Prez kept his mouth shut, listening to her vent, waiting for his opportunity to riposte. Upon hearing her last question, he seized it, speaking from the heart. “…You’re _Lynn Loud,”_ he said, shrugging.

Such an obvious response took Lynn aback. After blinking at in in surprise, she tossed her head indignantly. “Uh, _doy._ Thanks, Poindexter – I knew that!”

“Did you?” Prez asked, pushing himself up on his elbows. _“Do_ you? Because I don’t think you do. Who is Lynn Loud, _really?_ Tell me.”

_“Tch!”_ Lynn stretched her legs out and put a hand on her chest. “I’m…!” She drifted off, stalling out. Suddenly, she realized that the “easy” question actually wasn’t easy to answer at all. “I-I’m…”

“Yes…?”

“I…” Lynn gulped. “I-I’m, uh… I’m…” Lynn wracked her brain, looking for an answer – not even necessarily the _right_ answer, just _any_ answer – and in the end, came up short. Her hands fell to her sides, and she stared out at nothing.

Who _was_ she, really?

“Mm-hmm, you see?” Prez said, pointing at her. “You can’t answer that, can you?” He sat up. “You wanna know what I think your problem is, Lynn?”

Lynn exhaled sharply, folding her arms and glaring at Prez. _“…What?”_ she asked in a low tone.

“I think that you’re so preoccupied with how _others_ perceive you… that you’re unable to form a perception of yourself, _by_ yourself. _That’s_ what I think.”

“You…! _I…!”_ Lynn honestly couldn’t tell whether Prez was insulting her or not, or even if his words rang true or not, so she defaulted to her usual aggression. “Don’t talk about me like you _know me!_ You _don’t_ know me! You don’t know what it’s like to be _me!”_

Prez nodded patiently. “Then _tell_ me,” he responded. “Help me _understand_ what it’s like to be you, Lynn…”

Lynn blinked at him, her eyes starting to well with tears. Her breathing came in short, shuddering gasps. Wiping her eyes, she fought to get her emotions under control. Prez patted the ground next to him, then patted his upper arm, inviting her to rest her head. Lynn looked at him apprehensively, but seeing his gentle smile, started to consider the offer. Finally, after looking around to make sure no-one was looking, she took it up, lying down and resting her head on Prez’s arm.

The next few minutes passed in silence before Lynn had recomposed herself enough to speak again. “Do you know…” she said, “…how hard it is to get attention in a family as big as mine? It’s hard enough when you have ten siblings, but then you get into _my_ siblings…” She sniffled. “I mean, Leni’s a fashion savant; Luna’s a rock star; Luan’s a comedienne; Lucy’s a poet; Lola’s a pageant queen; Lisa’s a _supergenius;_ everyone loves Lily as the baby; heck, even _Stinkoln’s_ got something between his legs that I don’t that gives him an automatic leg-up over me! I have to _bust my behind_ just to _stand out –_ and ‘standing out’ isn’t the same as ‘being special’, mind you! If I’m not accomplishing anything – if I’m not _winning –_ then, I mean, what’s the _point?_ I’m just another dumb, sweaty girl who likes playing sports! Winning is the only way I can get attention in my family – the _good_ kind, I mean. And as soon as the moment passes, it’s back to being another face in the crowd.” She uttered a long, drawn-out sigh. “…You just don’t _get it,_ Prez. You don’t know how it feels… to be alone in your own family…”

Prez was quiet for a long time – so long, that Lynn started to move away from him, thinking her point was made. No-one understood her – same as always…

“…Actually,” she heard Prez say, “I _do.”_

Lynn sat up, turning back to him. _“Huh?”_

Prez didn’t look back at her, his face and eyes betraying years of weariness and aching. “…My brother, Jack, he’s… well, Mom, she never needed an excuse to lavish her children with affection; that’s just how she is. But in Dad’s eyes, Jack could do no wrong; he was his golden boy, his pride and joy.” He shrugged. “…Of course, it was Mom and Dad’s pride in Jack that blinded them to the fact that all the praise and attention was spoiling him rotten, but hey.” He sighed. “And _me?_ I only _exist_ because Mom pestered Dad into giving her another kid, which, by the way he tells it, he _really_ didn’t want to do. Can’t say why… but whatever the case, Dad thought he already had everything he wanted for a son in Jack. I was just an _afterthought.”_ He shook his head. “No matter what I did… what I accomplished… it was never good enough for him, or as good as the recent thing that Jack _‘accomplished’._ My whole life, I’ve been living in my older brother’s shadow.” At last, he turned his gaze to Lynn. “So, _yes,_ Lynn – I _do_ know how it feels to have to compete for your parents’ attention. Of course, I can’t hold a candle to _your_ situation; I’ve only got the _one_ sibling…”

Lynn shook her head. “N-No, Prez, th-that’s not what I meant… I-I didn’t –”

Prez held up a hand. “I _know_ you didn’t mean anything by it, Lynn. It’s okay. I’m just saying, I understand how you feel. You’re not as alone as you think, Lynn. And hey – _thanks.”_

Lynn blinked. “For what?”

“For being open with me. Honest with me. _Real_ with me. That kind of trust…” Prez put a hand over his heart. “It means a lot.”

Lynn uttered a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, well…” She lay back down, resting her head on Prez’s arm again. “Don’t take it as a free pass to start getting mushy with me, pal…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Prez looked up at the sky, now beginning to darken. “You know… you’ve helped me realize something…”

“What’s that?”

“Back before I knew you – knew you _personally,_ I mean – I saw you as an inspiration, Lynn. I looked up to you. Don’t get me wrong, I _still_ look up to you now, but I mean, I saw you as everything I wanted to be; as a perfect being; as a _goddess.”_ He chuckled. “But now that I’ve come to know you better, I realize that you’re just as human as any of us. I’m sorry for putting you on a pedestal like that – it was wrong of me. And you know, I think _you_ ought to stop holding yourself to such high expectations as a flawless win record. If you do…” He shook his head. “…then you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment later.”

Lynn frowned. “But if I’m not giving it my all, then I’m not just letting _myself_ down – I’m letting _everyone_ down…”

“I’m not saying _‘stop giving it 100%’,_ Lynn; I’m saying, _‘nobody’s perfect’._ Not even being the best baseball player _ever_ will prevent you from losing sometimes – but winning isn’t _everything_. You’re still a great baseball player, Lynn – anyone with working eyes can see that. I mean, did you see that wicked double-play against Shannon O’Bannon? That was _insane!_ I still don’t know how you pulled that off…”

Lynn snorted derisively. “Yeah, well, fat load of good it did – freakin’ _Lucy Powell_ hit a home run against me the next play…”

“No-one could have predicted that, Lynn – and I mean _‘no-one’._ It had nothing to do with your skills.” Prez shrugged. “It was just… _bad luck,_ plain and simple…”

Lynn shuddered upon hearing those two words in conjunction. “‘Bad luck’… _ugh!_ _Please_ don’t talk to _me_ about _‘bad luck’…!”_

Prez remembered the other Louds’ similar reaction to this ‘bad luck’ incident. He shook his head. “Well, I’m sorry, but that’s what it was – _bad luck._ If anyone knows about being unlucky, again, it’s _me._ It happens to everyone, and there’s nothing you can do about it except roll with the punches. It doesn’t make you any less of a great player, Lynn, and it certainly doesn’t make you _worthless.”_

Lynn clenched her jaw. “…Yeah, but this wasn’t just _any_ case of bad luck – it was a case of bad luck that _cost us the championships!_ I mean, all that hard work and effort, and what did it amount to? _Nothing!”_

“Hey, look on the bright side, Lynn – you _made it_ to the championships! That’s no small feat…”

“Yeah. And we _lost._ Which makes me a _loser.”_

Prez didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he withdrew his arm from under Lynn’s head, and pushed himself up to look down at her. “…Is that what you think?” he asked.

Lynn huffed. “It’s what I _know.”_

Prez arched an eyebrow. “Really? Hm… that’s interesting…”

Lynn narrowed her eyes at him. “‘Interesting’ _how?_ Hm? How is me being a _loser_ ‘interesting’?”

Prez stood up, pacing in a slow circle. “Because, while _you_ were sulking out here, _I_ was talking out _there_ – talking to everyone. The spectators; the umpires; your parents; your siblings; your teammates; heck, even the _Floggers –_ and yes, that includes Shannon O’Bannon. And believe me when I say, Lynn:”

He stopped at her head, standing above her and looking straight down at her.

“The only one _treating_ you like a loser… is _yourself.”_

Lynn’s eyes widened, her lungs drawing in a quiet gasp. Nodding, Prez stepped away, turned, and started walking back towards the gathered Louds and Squirrels, now resting in the stands. Lynn sat up and turned to see where he was going.

Prez turned around and looked at her. “…We’re going to Gus’s Games and Grub for pizza. You coming?”

Lynn looked at Prez, then her friends and family. She bit her lip, hesitating.

After a few moments with no reply, Prez shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

With that, he turned and started walking away from her. Lynn watched him leave, her heart sinking. She looked out at her family and friends, and from what little she could see from this distance, their eyes were all on her. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking, but one thing was certain:

She didn’t know what she was doing out here, all alone.

Prez didn’t turn to look, but he heard Lynn’s footsteps behind him, jogging to catch up. She slowed her pace to walk side by side with him, and when he looked at her, he saw a number of emotions on her face: contrition in her brows, for her actions earlier; gratitude in her eyes, for what he did to her; and most of all, irritation in her frown, for caving and coming back with him.

Prez smiled. That was his Lynn, no doubt about it…

Seeing the triumphant grin on his face as he walked irked Lynn. With a smirk of her own, she slugged him hard in the arm without warning.

_“Ow!”_ Prez winced, rubbing his arm. “What was _that_ for?”

“For being a stupid dork,” Lynn replied. Then, with a gentle smile, she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “And _that…_ was _also_ for being a stupid dork.”

Prez cradled his cheek, blushing. Seeing him so flustered made Lynn laugh aloud.

Having seen Lynn join Prez from the distance, the Louds and Squirrels were all gathered together to greet them both once they returned from the field. _“Wow,_ Prez,” Luan said, “I’m im- _prez-_ ed! _Hahahahaha!_ Get it?”

_“Whoa…”_ Lana said, “…how’d you do it?”

_“Heh…”_ Prez put a finger to his lips. “That’ll be my little secret…”

“Yeah, it’d _better_ be!” Lynn said, catching Prez’s head in a headlock. “Now _come on,_ fam! Are we gonna be celebrating a great season with some pizza, or _what?”_

A lusty cheer rang out from the now mostly-deserted park. The Floggers went to ride with their families, and the Louds headed for Vanzilla, Lynn with Prez still in a headlock in tow…


End file.
